Dance With Me
by The Rose Society
Summary: "Let's be fools together. We'll have to work together to make sure this doesn't ruin everything, but… I believe in you, the reckless man who charges into danger stubbornly insisting he'll win because that's just what he has to do. And I believe in me, the one who always has to save your sorry ass." AU - IchiRuki pairing.


**Dance With Me - Chapter 1 *First Draft*  
**

**Author**: The Rose Society

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: All characters are owned by Tite Kubo and respective entities. Borrowed by myself without permission. Plotline and badly written fic are generated by myself.

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By this time, most people were at home, eating dinner with their families, enjoying some time to unwind before preparing for bed. It was definitely nighttime outside the dance studio, the gentle silver of the full winter's moon shining upon the mostly empty parking lot, save for a single car. However, there were lights on inside the studio, and if you went inside, quite a bit of noise from two arguing idiots.

"That is the fourth time you've dropped me, fool!" Kuchiki Rukia ground out from her collapsed position on the waxed wooden floor. Heaving herself up with her elbows then hands, she levelled a glare at her bright orange-haired dance partner.

An aggravated growl emanated from Kurosaki Ichigo's throat. "Look, we've been at this all day. We're both tired and it's dinnertime. Why don't we just end for today and try again tomorrow?"

The petite dark-haired woman sprang up and raised a fisted hand at Ichigo. "Are you crazy? We have the regional competition in two weeks and we still can't get this move down. We have no time to waste, we need the practice."

Ichigo rotated a sore shoulder and looked away from the irate and practically fire-breathing woman. "Oi, easy for you to say. You aren't the one risking injury to lift your sorry ass in this move. You're heavy-OOF."

Sneering, Rukia looked at Ichigo as she jabbed an elbow repeatedly into his midsection. "What did you say, Kurosaki-kun?" Her sweet schoolgirl tone, plus the physical trauma, made Ichigo fight the urge to vomit.

Batting her elbow away, Kurosaki placed a hand protectively upon his stomach. "Quit using that voice with me, Rukia. It's so damn creepy."

With a victorious grin, Rukia placed her arms behind her back, and pulled on her best acting skills. "Pleeeeease, Kurosaki-kun! Just a few more run-throughs? As a favor to me?" She batted her eyes, mirroring what she recalled from the antics of their former high school classmates as they flirted.

Turning a smidge green, Ichigo scowled at her. "Really need to stop that, it is creepy as hell. We're in college, damn it, you need to really can that high schooler act, lest you get picked up and molested by some pervert. With your height, he'd definitely think you were some underage jailbait."

Dark brows furrowed before Rukia changed it up and looked at Ichigo with her best pleading expression. "Mou, Kurosaki-kun!" Schooling her voice to take on the throaty purr Matsumoto Rangiku often used while employing these techniques, Rukia aged her act on the fly. One does not belittle a Kuchiki's acting prowess and get away with it. She used her large blue-violet eyes, contrasted with that one stubborn black bang that always hung on her face, to her best advantage as she fingered the neckline of her black camisole.

Ichigo narrowed his brown gaze at his devious dance partner, especially wary of that slender finger brushing beautifully pale, soft skin and the gentle rise and fall of a dainty collarbone. "What are you doing? And why the hell do you sound like Rangiku-san?"

Light steps drew Rukia closer to Ichigo. She snickered to herself as she slowly sprung her trap on her unsuspecting partner. "Mou, Kurosaki-kun!" A tiny stamp of her foot and a hand placed on jutted hip accompanied her words. "I'll treat you to dinner if you would just do a few more run-throughs!"

"No."

Pouting, Rukia stood just in front of Ichigo, looked down, before slowly looking up at Ichigo, letting her eyes moisten just a bit with the beginnings of tears. "Kurosaki-kun, just once more? After all, you know what the competition means for us and the opportunities it can bring. I'll owe you one!"

Eyeing the teary woman in front of him, Ichigo could feel his resolve fraying. "…No. I'm tired and sore."

Time to deploy the big guns. Placing her dainty hands upon Ichigo's stomach, she let the warmth of his body sink into her fingers before she trailed her hands up the abs she knew lay under his shirt, flattening her palms across his chest, before gently resting them on his shoulders. She often touched him as a part of their dance routines but never outside them, except maybe a foot to Ichigo's face or an elbow to the gut.

'What the hell is she doing?' Ichigo suppressed a shudder at the unexpected contact, eyes widening at Rukia's forwardness.

Inwardly smirking, she could read the beginnings of panic in Ichigo's eyes. "I'll give you a back rub if you do," she purred, channeling as much Rangiku as she could. Rukia was in uncharted waters, in terms of her own experience, and had to rely on what she observed of others in this odd situation. She had never had to utilize this Cajoling Act - Version 2, the school girl having served her purposes up until now. Using a gentle strength, she squeezed Ichigo's shoulders and then relaxed her hold. With her right index finger, she traced a trail from shoulder to collarbone, up to tickle a bobbing Adam's apple, before sliding back down his sternum, stopping right over his heart.

Gulping, Ichigo felt the stirrings of desire once again flare in the pit of his stomach. Truth be told, he and Rukia had known each other for quite some time, meeting when they were both fifteen at Karakura High School. Rukia had just transferred from the elite private school in town to Karakura High. A chance encounter had changed both their worlds. Rukia had been trapped by the suffocating formality and icy distance of the noble Kuchiki household while Ichigo had been languishing in a numb and gray world, purposely distancing himself from anyone and everything since the death of his mother, which he blamed himself for. Their meeting and subsequent relationship broke both of them from their old lives, bringing rainbow colors, stereo sound, and vibrant and young energy back into both of them.

Both had been trained in ballet since they were young, but favored more modern dance styles as teens. It had been Rukia, seeing that Ichigo needed some prodding to discover life again, that had pushed the scowling, morose boy into joining her as her partner at the Kuchiki dance studio. She had only meant to help Ichigo, who she found interesting as he was one of the few at Karakura High School to not be intimidated by the Kuchiki name. However, she found that she had also helped herself, as Ichigo encouraged her to dance again without constraints, with passion and heart. For the last six years, they danced together, doing quite well in competitions and winning a number of awards.

Spending so much time together had stirred up a lot of teasing from Mizuiro and a lot of wailing from Keigo, which Ichigo mostly ignored or stopped by kicking Keigo's ass a few times. When his friends saw how he had to hold Rukia in some compromising positions, the teasing had only intensified. However, they were professionals, and friends, and despite the physical contact and long hours together, none of those led to any sort of romantic or sexual feelings on either side.

No, it was the absolute trust and loyalty they had built together, the long conversations about things that neither had revealed to anyone before, such as Kurosaki Masaki and Shiba Kaien's deaths, that had served to spark some fledgling emotions in Ichigo and Rukia's hearts. But both were stubborn and silly people, completely unused to and discomforted by such emotions and they both fought the pull between them with snark and smacks. It was telling that at twenty years old, both still had not dated other people or each other, each claiming that they were focusing on college and dance when asked by their friends. But for every social function, during their off-time, during practice, during their shared classes, etc., they were always together, practically joined at the hip. So their friends treated them much as a pair of matched shoes, where one was invited, it was assumed that the invitation extended to the other.

Shaking clear of his thoughts, Ichigo arched a sarcastic eyebrow at Rukia. "A back rub is not enough to make me run through the entire thing again." He shrugged his shoulders a bit to shake loose Rukia's distracting hands.

Rukia frowned a bit. "Are you serious about your shoulder paining you? Maybe we should scrap that part of the routine and get rid of the lifts? I can get the Kuchiki physician to take a look-"

Chuckling, Ichigo placed a hand on Rukia's slender wrist, encircling her slender bones with his long fingers. He rubbed her quickening pulse point with his thumb. "Calm down, I'm fine, nothing a little rest won't fix." Suspicious eyes glared at him. "Really! You're tiny and are light to pick up, plus we've trained lifts for years, you've always done your part to keep from getting us hurt."

Appeased, Rukia's concerned relaxed a bit before resuming her pouty, half-lidded look. "Good. Now, what was that about a back rub not being enough, Ichigo?" Drawing close, she whispered his name in his ear, drawing out the individual sounds just a bit. She puffed a little air against the shell of his ear, smirking when he shivered almost imperceptively.

Ignoring the melting of his knees, Ichigo tried to scowl at Rukia. Unable to do so, he kept his face averted to try to hide his reddening cheeks. "It's just not," he mumbled.

'Almost there.' Ignoring the warming thrum in her bloodstream, Rukia slide her hands back and forth over Ichigo's well-muscled shoulders. "Well, tell me, what would you like in return for your participation?" She sent him a sly look. "I'll do _anything_."

Her words served to fan the flames between them and Ichigo felt himself start to harden. Taking both her wrists now in his hands, he broke her grip and took a step back. "Ok, fine, you devil." Keeping his head turned to the side, he growled out his response. "Just once, alright? Anything to keep you from being so creepy." He went over to the music system to cue up the music for their routine, missing Rukia's slight wince at the word 'creepy'.

By the time he returned to the center of the studio floor, Rukia had schooled her features to show only placid gentility and grace. At seeing her face, Ichigo felt much of the tension and desire that hummed in his body relax. When Rukia danced, the lines of her arms and body, the speed of her turns, the lightness of her jumps, all served to give the observer a feeling of peacefulness and relaxation, like one wandered through a dark and frightening forest only to end up in an open glade with the comforting spill of full, silvery moonlight.

Taking his starting position with his back against hers, Ichigo could feel as Rukia took in a few calming breaths. Doing the same, they both closed their eyes, letting the silence of the studio help them prepare for the rigors of their choreography. Ichigo bowed his head, letting any remaining tension bleed out from him, while he could feel the tiny shifts that indicated Rukia had lifted hers to face the ceiling.

'Complementary. Black and white, short and tall, female and male. This dance will be about yang and yin. You two are the fated 'Butterfly Lovers'. Rukia is the female scholar in disguise, Ichigo her clueless love interest. She eventually must leave their co-mingled scholarly path and return home to be married off. Despite her hints as to her gender, Ichigo doesn't realize who Rukia really is. The would-be lovers are parted. After a separation, Ichigo eventually learns who Rukia is and pursues Rukia. The two pledge their eternal love, but it is too late. Rukia is to be married off to a rich suitor, and devastated by the news, Ichigo grows ill and dies. As Rukia is taken to her wedding, she passes Ichigo gravesite, and goes to pay her respects. Overwrought with grief, she pleads to join her lover, the grave opens, and Rukia is reunited with Ichigo. Emerging from the grave, the lovers' spirits become a pair of butterflies, flying off into eternity, forever united.'

The words their choreographer had intoned whispered through Rukia's mind before she cleared her thoughts and prepared to dance. As the music began, she moved her pale, bare arms to entwine with Ichigo's tanned arms, feeling him begin to hinge forward as she began to extend her leg in front of her and hinge her torso back. Once upon his back, she moved smoothly to roll to the side, dropping to a seated position, both legs to the side. The dance had begun.

They moved through the beginning choreography smoothly, their bodies flowing together then apart then back again with the smoothness of silk. They could see each other in the mirrored walls, checking each other's lines, or for pointed toes, or for any of the minutia that would they would be scored on as a part of the competition.

All was going as it should, but again, this was not the part of the choreography they were having difficulties with. It came here, at the emotional crest of the dance, the portion they were having difficulties with.

Waiting from his position to the side, Ichigo watched as Rukia's lithe form switches from an arabesque to small, slow chassé steps that speed up until she leaps into a grand jeté, landing in front of him. According to the choreography, they were to then counter-balance, allowing Ichigo to easily lift Rukia into the air, and once her legs were anchored under his arm and against his hip, she could then arch all the way back, her head almost touching the ground, their clasped hand her support as her free arm also reaches for the ground. The lovers reunited in the grave, the choreographer had said.

All in all, it was a really simple combination. So long as Ichigo was properly in opposition to Rukia, there really should be no chance of dropping the petite dancer. However…

"OOF."

Down she went. Again. Ichigo could hear groaning from right in front of his braced legs and he quickly bent to give Rukia a hand up.

Swatting the proffered hand, Rukia glared at Ichigo. "FIFTH TIME, Ichigo. What the hell? We've done something like this a thousand times, this isn't even one of the more difficult lifts. It keeps feeling like you're missing your cue." She moved a hand to massage her aching rear end. "Is something distracting you?"

Looking at those irritated blue-violet eyes, Ichigo knew he had to confess. He straightened his posture and rubbed the back of his head nervously. He finally realized what the hell was going on and knew they had to talk about it or they would never progress on this dance, let alone as dance partners.

"Rukia." The sound of her name in such a serious tone seized her attention as she watched Ichigo bow his head, letting his spiky hair shade his eyes from hers. She froze in place, looking up at him from the floor.

He winced, trying to figure out how to say this without sounding like a complete dumbass, scaring his best friend, and possibly ruining their relationship forever. No matter, intelligent as he was, he always was a 'plunge in and let instinct take over' type of guy, not a strategic battle plan type of guy. So he opened his mouth and let the truth fly.

"You're right, I was distracted, have been distracted."

Silence was his response, though he knew Rukia was staying silent to allow him to continue speaking rather than ignoring him. She always knew when to push him in encouragement and when to hold back and make space for him to divulge information, if he wished. It was one of her best skills and he was grateful for it.

"I've been less than professional here. I keep getting distracted here because… well, because… you look like you want to die." He sighed, knowing that he wasn't being very clear when he saw Rukia's very confused expression.

After giving him some time, Rukia let out an "Eh?" as she tilted her head at Ichigo. What the hell was he talking about? She was not suicidal by any means but she was about to become very homicidal if this perplexing conversation was not cleared up soon.

"Look. No joke. For a long time now, I've been trying to say this, and I think you have too, but I love you. Not just as my best friend, which you are, but the 'I want to spend my life with you and beyond' type of way, which is really cheesy as hell and I wish you would quit reading those stupid shoujo manga aloud when we hang out." He ran a shaking hand through his hair, tugging a bit at the ends. "I don't want to ruin our friendship, so I haven't said a word, but you deserve to know the truth. So when you look up at me during your lunge at the gravesite, looking like you're fighting back tears, and, damn, when did your acting skills get so good, something inside me gets all tense and stuff and my concentration breaks cuz I can't stand seeing you so heartbroken because of me. I am reminded of when you told me about Kaien and all the shit that was happening then and I—"

His rambling was broken by a slight stinging slap to the back of his head and a pair of soft lips against his own. His eyes widened as he met the liquid gaze of Rukia's and then both pairs of eyes slowly fluttered shut as the kiss melted them both. He was able to register Rukia's slim but strong arms wrap around his waist, placing hesitant hands upon his lower back. Groaning a bit, he wrapped his own arms around her, pulling her even closer to his body. Ending the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes still shut, cautiously allowing some elation to bloom in his heart.

Rukia's low chuckle broke the silence between them. "Ichigo." A wealth of warmth and love was behind such a simple utterance. "I love you too, fool, I love you in that cheesy shoujo manga way as well." They both grinned at each other. "I too was also holding back, because we both aren't the sappy type, and because I was worried too. We've seen our share of dance partners who can't survive the romantic relationship breaking up. And by saying these words, we've already irrevocably changed our friendship." She squeezes him a little harder for a moment. "We've had our share of loss, so I know that we're scared of losing anyone else, so this seems like a foolish thing to do." Growing quiet, Rukia paused to gather her thoughts.

'Damn, she stopped.' Ichigo began to worry a bit. Did he read her wrong? It seemed like she fully returned his feelings and was even willing to try taking their relationship to a different level, but her current silence was causing doubt to creep back in. Flattening his palms where they rested against her delicate shoulder blades, he pressed her ever more tightly to him; if it was going to be the only time he got to hold her like this, he was going to get every moment, every sensation, every memory out of it that he could.

"Ichigo?"

"Mmm?" Taking a deep breath, letting the subtle smell of Rukia's skin fill his very being, Ichigo braced himself for whatever she was going to say next.

Her lips brushed against his for the briefest of moments. "Let's be fools together. We'll have to work together to make sure this doesn't ruin everything, but… I believe in you, the reckless man who charges into danger stubbornly insisting he'll win because that's just what he has to do. And I believe in me, the one who always has to save your sorry ass." She yelped and began laughing when Ichigo happily picked her up and began to spin her around.


End file.
